


Christmases Past and Present

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Birthday Presents, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Fade to black sex, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Found Family, Implied Sexual Content, Kotatsu, M/M, Merry Vicmas!, Mild Angst, just lots of warm cozy vibes man, let victor nikiforov be loved 2kforever, y'all they're so in love i'm gonna cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21974740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Victor never understood what was so important about birthdays or the holiday season until he got to spend them with Yuuri and his family in Hatsetsu.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 11
Kudos: 140





	Christmases Past and Present

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akabas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akabas/gifts).



> WHERE is all the fic of yuuri and victor cuddling under a kotatsu??? WHERE IS IT??????
> 
> i got a request from [ch20youk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ch20youk/pseuds/ch20youk) to write some christmas-y fluff for [akabas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akabas) as a gift!! so, merry vicmas to you both, and akabas i hope you enjoy the fic!!!

In the middle of the night, Victor wakes to a soft nuzzling against against his hair, the wet warmth of breath in his ear, and a sweet kiss right at his jawline. A radiator ticks beside their bed, the window rattles with the wind outside, a few snowflakes dancing in the cold moonlight.

Yuuri grips Victor from behind and murmurs, “Happy Birthday, Vitya.”

Victor giggles, kissing the hand clasped in his shirt, and sighs, “Thank you, my Yuuri.”

Yuuri smiles against the nape of Victor’s neck, and Victor listens to his breathing slow and even out, thinking of how happy he is to have someone to fall asleep next to.

* * *

Victor loves the kotatsu.

He doesn’t know how he survived twenty seven years of icy Russian winters without one – how did he manage coming back from the ice rink, the chill seeping down into his bones through his willowy frame, and at all feel warm without the cozy, radiative heat coming from above?

There are many things Victor hadn’t realized he’d been missing so desperately until Yuuri barged right into his life, half-naked and drunk on champagne, and laid them out for him explicitly. He supposes it’s like being given glasses for the first time – suddenly every leaf on every tree is clear and exquisite.

Parts of that are hard for Victor to think about. On his bad days, he sits alone and wonders how he let it get so bad, how he didn’t recognize the slow hollowing out of his body until he barely felt anything anymore, not even the cold of the ice rink or the echoing loneliness of his apartment in St. Petersburg.

Victor doesn’t like to get stuck on that. So, he likes to think about the kotatsu instead. A simple thing that was missing with a very easy fix.

“Vitya,” Yuuri croons, “Want to go for a run with me?”

“It’s impossible,” Victor sighs, “I’m trapped here and I’ll never be able to get out.”

“Oh no, the kotatsu monster is trying to take my husband,” Yuuri gasps, hooking his arms underneath Victor’s armpits and playfully tugging at him. “I have to help you escape.”

“Nooo, you don’t,” Victor pouts, wriggling in Yuuri’s grasp. “Yuuri, it’s my _birthday,_ and it’s _cold outside_. You really want me to freeze to death on my birthday? Such a cruel husband!”

Yuuri snorts, kissing Victor’s forehead, which just makes him pout even harder. “You know I love you,” he says. “And I also know that you get very antsy if you just laze around all day with no exercise at all.”

“Hmph,” Victor huffs, wriggling out of Yuuri’s grip and flipping around to press his cheek into Yuuri’s muscular tummy. He briefly misses the squish he feels when he does that in the summer before continuing on, “But I _also_ get antsy when my adoring husband leaves me, sad and lonely, all alone underneath the kotatsu-”

“Alright,” Yuuri smiles fondly, “Only because it’s your birthday. And we’re still going running later, okay?”

“Yay!” Victor cheers, flopping on top of Yuuri and toppling him to the floor. Yuuri squeaks in surprise, and Victor nuzzles into Yuuri’s chest, pulling the blanket out so that it covers the two of them better.

“Vitya,” Yuuri laughs, wriggling in Victor’s grip, “Let me – I’m trying to get under there with you. Hold on a second-”

Victor continues to cling to Yuuri like koala, or a particularly stubborn bit of tinsel. Luckily, Yuuri has become an expert in maneuvering onto couches and under blankets with Victor stuck to him like a burr, so he manages to wriggle his way under the warmth of the kotatsu and pull Victor to a comfortable position on top of him, Victor’s head nestled in the crook of Yuuri’s neck.

“Ah,” Victor murmurs, wiggling with delight. “Much better. To think that I get to be held by the Japanese national gold medalist.”

It feels right, just lying around like this, in the warmth and comfort of Yutopia Katsuki. Yuuri’s body heat presses against him, more comforting even than the warmth of the kotatsu, sending tingling feelings of safety and love down to the tips of his toes.

“You know,” Victor murmurs, batting his eyes at Yuuri. “Since you won gold, and since it’s my birthday, you’ll kiss me, right?”

Yuuri laughs good naturedly and puckers his lips so that Victor can lean over and press a quick kiss to them, then he giggles, giddy, and peppers Yuuri’s cheeks and jaw with little kisses.

There’s a snort from somewhere else in the room and Victor snaps his head up to see Mari leaning against the doorframe of the room, smirking. Victor flushes – one of the disadvantages of spending Christmas with the Katsukis is that it’s much harder for them to find alone time, and occasionally someone will catch them doing something they’d rather stayed private.

“Um,” Victor manages, not moving off from on top of Yuuri, cheeks pink. “We were-”

Mari rolls her eyes and says, “You two are so in love it’s disgusting.”

Then she slides the door shut, and the two of them dissolve into a fit of giggles underneath the kotatsu.

* * *

Victor never celebrated Christmas, growing up. When he’d lived with Yakov, Yakov and Lilia would put up the appropriate New Years tree, green and lush and filling the house with the scent of fresh pine, which they’d inevitably bicker about as pine needles scattered everywhere and Lilia’s cat batted at the branches and nearly knocked the tree to the ground – but once Victor moved out it just seemed like such a hassle.

He never even really celebrated his birthday. The middle of competition season wasn’t the time to indulge in festive treats, and anyway, he was so busy training for Russian Nationals that it just seemed more trouble than it was worth to do anything. His rinkmates would wish him the obligatory happy birthday, and he’d skate and skate until he felt nothing but the ache in his feet and the unfeeling ice beneath him. He’d skate until it didn’t matter what day it was, because the burn of his muscles just blended in with every other day of his life.

Now, somehow, he’s started celebrating both, and it causes a pang in him that he spent so long wondering what was so special about birthdays and Christmas anyway.

The onsen is full of people, bustling around, drinking and laughing and wishing him a warm happy birthday. To most of the Hatsetsu locals, Victor is Yuuri’s “handsome foreign boyfriend,” which suits him just fine. It still amuses him to no end when they get stopped by a fan and it’s only Yuuri’s autograph they ask for.

“The KFC in town shut down years ago, when I was just a kid,” Yuuri explains, settling down under the sunken kotatsu. Victor shivers, still chilly from the run, and makes a point of cuddling up beside Yuuri instead of taking the place opposite him under the table and sliding his cold hands under Yuuri’s shirt. “Eep! Cold, Vitya!”

Victor giggles and nuzzles into Yuuri’s neck apologetically. He pulls his hands out from under Yuuri’s shirt and spreads his stiff fingers out underneath the heat of the kotatsu.

“As I was _saying_ ,” Yuuri sasses, kissing Victor’s forehead in that sweet but teasing way he has, “Ever since then, my folks have offered a special ‘American fried chicken’ Christmas dinner. Chicken, mashed potatoes, sort of a cole slaw. We always have a few people who show up, especially some of the older folk who don’t have families to go home to.”

“But,” Victor muses, still nuzzling into Yuuri’s neck, “Christmas isn’t traditional in Japan, is it?”

Yuuri frowns, tapping his chin pensively. “Not really. It’s certainly a western import, but – I don’t know. It’s become its own sort of tradition here, over time. We don’t really celebrate like anyone in the west.” He shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “I found out pretty quickly in Detroit that Americans do not, in fact, eat KFC on Christmas.”

“I think the way you celebrate is perfect,” Victor smiles. “I’ve told you I never really celebrated Christmas before I met you, so this is nice. The way you do it, it makes me feel so at home, because it’s with you.”

Yuuri flushes, burying his face in Victor’s hair to stop Victor from seeing his smitten expression. They cuddle like that, sitting by the kotatsu, for a while before Mari comes out with two sizzling plates of fried chicken, Makkachin padding along behind her.

“Oh, Mari,” Victor gasps, wriggling out, “Do you want-”

“No way, birthday boy,” Mari stops him, wriggling one very threatening finger, “You sit back down and let us take care of you.”

Victor flushes, feeling a surge of warmth towards Mari.

“Thank you,” Yuuri murmurs.

“You’re not off the hook,” Mari smirks at Yuuri. “It’s not your birthday, and I’m not doing all those dishes.”

Yuuri whines, but Mari just ruffles his black hair and turns to stalk off. Victor snorts into Yuuri’s shoulder. He never had siblings growing up, and the easy, teasing familiarity – it fills him with a warmth that radiates seeps into the very marrow of his bones.

Makkachin curls up beside Victor, and Mari looks around quickly before slipping her a piece of juicy chicken before stalking off to serve the few other guests.

Along with the Christmas décor – green wreaths and warm, glowy lights that shimmer in Yuuri’s honey-sweet eyes – there’s a banner wishing Victor a very happy birthday in English, Japanese, and Russian.

Yakov did his best, he really did, but nothing compares to this kind of warmth and security.

“Careful,” Yuuri warns as Victor picks up a steaming hot piece of chicken, “It’s still hot.”

“My Yuuri always looks out for me,” Victor smiles, taking a bite of a juicy thigh and sighing in contentment, and he presses an oily, teasing kiss to Yuuri’s cheek.

“Gross,” Yuuri sniffs, wiping off the oil, but holding Victor close all the same.

“You love me,” Victor pokes his cheek.

Yuuri tilts up Victor’s chin, kissing him on the mouth, despite the taste of fried chicken clinging to him. “Of course I do,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded and soft.

Victor thinks his heart could burst from how happy he is.

* * *

Winter howls and echoes through the onsen long after everyone has gone home, the wind rattling along the thin walls and making the windows shake and shiver. Most rooms have space heaters in them, emitting a warm, red glow, but Victor would much rather sit beneath the warmth of the kotatsu next to Yuuri even if the room around him is chilly.

“Happy birthday,” Yuuri says as he finally finishes helping his parents with the dishes, and the Katsukis all settle in under the kotatsu to give Victor his presents. Yuuri presses a kiss to Victor’s cheek, then a kiss to Makkachin’s head, as she dozes underneath the blankets.

Mama and Papa Katsuki feel so much more like his parents than his own mother and father did, Mari like the sister he never had, who teases him but loves him all the same.

Toshiya got Makkachin doggie ear warmers hand-made by one of his friends in Hatsetsu, Mari got them some new exercise bands, knowing how quickly they wear theirs out while training. Hiroko had hand-knitted Victor a brand new pair of soft skate guards, the same pink and blue as their Stammi Vicino duet.

Victor has made a lot of money from skating – his birthday used to be waiting for his Grand Prix Final and sponsorship checks to come through, so that he could purchase what he wanted for himself. Makkachin has ear warmers already, and buying new exercise bands isn’t a financial hardship for either Victor or Yuuri.

That doesn’t matter to Victor, though. He loves every hat that Hiroko has knitted for him, he religiously makes protein shakes using the cookbook Toshiya got for them both, studying the Japanese characters slowly and carefully as he adds matcha and banana and whey protein to his state of the art blender back in St. Petersburg.

It matters to Victor that his family got gifts for _him_ , they thought about what he wanted, what he liked, that they loved him enough to try to find what would make him the happiest. He used to think he was so happy, going to the shops alone with his skating money and splurging on whatever he liked, but that was so empty and lonely compared to this.

“Vitya,” Yuuri croons in his ear, once Victor has wiped the happy tears from his eyes and given his family huge, grateful hugs. “You haven’t opened my present yet, darling.”

Victor bounces giddily as Yuuri hands him a flat, wrapped package. It’s wrapped in such pretty, shimmering paper, gold and pink and blue, and Victor’s hands tremble as he delicately peels the tape away, not wanting to damage the wrapping.

His eyes widen, and he gasps, clutching at his chest as he takes a look at Yuuri’s gift.

It’s a framed plaque, with an inscription in glittering gold at the bottom.

Victor murmurs, “Is that-”

Yuuri nods, eyes glittering nervously as he searches Victor’s face for his reaction. Victor notices his hands are shaking as well, and he takes them, kissing every single knuckle.

In the plaque is Victor’s very first gold medal, something he’d just kept, forgotten, in a box in his apartment. Why did he care about his first gold when he’s won so many others?

Beside it, though, is Yuuri’s very first gold medal as well, with him as a coach. The lanyards twist together into a heart shape in the plaque, and beneath the medals is a flower preserved in resin, one of the beautiful chrysanthemums that decorated the head table during their wedding reception.

Beneath it, Victor reads the inscription, “Of all the gold in the world, the finest is the one you share with me.”

“Oh Yuuri,” Victor breathes, so overwhelmed he can’t stop the tears that fall from his cheeks. “This is the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever given me.”

Yuuri brushes a tear away from Victor’s cheek with his thumb, and he brings their lips together for another kiss.

“I wanted to give you something that would make you as happy as you’ve made me,” Yuuri whispers, batting his thick lashes nervously.

“I’m happy,” Victor sniffles, wiping at his nose with a tissue from the top of the kotatsu, “I’m so, so happy. Thank you, Yuuri. My life and love.”

Victor settles into Yuuri’s arms, sniffling into his shoulder, and Yuuri kisses his cheeks and rocks him until Mari coughs conspicuously. Victor gasps as he remembers he and Yuuri aren’t alone in the room. He turns to the Katsuki’s sheepishly, laughing a little, as he says, “Thank you all so much for such a wonderful birthday. Such a wonderful Christmas.”

“I thought I’d had enough of little brothers with Yuuri,” Mari laughs, “But you’re pretty cool too, I guess.”

Victor lets out another conspicuous sniffle, which he tries and fails to disguise as a laugh, and the Katsukis pull him into a group hug, surrounding him with warmth, happiness, and love.

* * *

It’s late by the time Yuuri and Victor manage to retreat to their private room, the onsen and the world outside long since settled into sleep and darkness. Victor yawns, propping up the plaque on the bedside table, running his finger along it gently.

“Yuuri,” he murmurs again, wishing there were enough words in all of Russian, Japanese, or English for him to tell Yuuri how deeply he loves him. “Thank you. I love you so much.”

Yuuri smiles, settling down next to him on the bed, and kisses his cheek, trailing kisses down his jaw.

“You know,” Yuuri murmurs, “I have another present for you.”

Victor’s eyes widen as Yuuri slips his baggy shirt down over his shoulder, revealing a bright red ribbon strap over his shoulder. Victor sees the beginnings of a lacy bra beneath his shirt, with straps all along his belly and back, sees the peek of lacy red beneath the waistband of Yuuri’s pants.

“Won’t you unwrap me?” Yuuri teases, pushing his hair back just the way Victor likes, even though it flops back over his forehead almost instantly without his signature _eros_ hair gel.

“Yuuri,” Victor breathes, pulling Yuuri into another kiss – this one deeper, _hungrier_. “Yuuri. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Yuuri gasps, and the two of them fall back onto the bed, knowing that neither will be getting much sleep that night.


End file.
